


A Spark

by Angelwingsl3 (Marie_Fanwriter)



Series: Macen & Avitus [1]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Fluff, M/M, M/M Rares 2018, Pre-Andromeda, Spectre Requisitions Rare Pair Exchange 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 05:28:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13827480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marie_Fanwriter/pseuds/Angelwingsl3
Summary: Sometimes you meet someone and there’s an immediate connection between you. This was one of those times.





	A Spark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [savbakk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/savbakk/gifts).



> Cartan - Turian formal language

Request by savbakk

Open for anything romantic-- fluff or angst! Taking place when both are alive preferably.

\- - -

Avitus glanced around the grandhall casually. All natural materials, granite and wood, made up the ancient building. Intricate designs were laid into the stonework, while magnificent tapestries adorned the walls. To the uninitiated it might have given the appearance of someone new appreciating the grandeur of the room. To those that knew him however, it was _obvious_ that he was casing the place.

There was a lot to take in. The long tapestries hid seams for internal armaments from days passed. Chairs and benches lined the centre of the room, facing the central dias like soldiers standing stock still on parade. As more individuals entered the room, they each took a seat  appropriate for their position in the Hierarchy, every tier defined without a word needing to be said.

Out of the swath of turians in the room, he’d noticed fifteen so far that had come armed, not including himself. The odds were in favor of a quarter of the room packing heat, maybe a bit less. His estimate matched reality, but damn if the more paranoid members weren’t in need of a lesson in subtlety. Not half so good at hiding their sidearms as he was.

Rix starting making note of who was and wasn’t armed. Anyone carrying concealed weapons would have to be Blackwatch, top tier, or other Spectres. Likely also tasked with the security of one or more of the most prominent figures. Cluster Primarchs... possibly a Senator or two.

He was rubbing elbows with a pretty damn select crowd tonight.

Sitting in the back, he could see most of the room as the ceremonial addresses began. The position appropriate for not only his tier but his job as well. Avitus sat alone, in companionable silence with other turians from his home colony in the outer reaches of Hierarchy space. Their voices raised at appropriate points in congratulations for the newly promoted Senators.

The Spectre had taken a job on the homeworld for a change. It was, literally, worlds different from his usual assignments in Council-held space or the occasional foray into the Terminus Systems. This sort of job wasn’t really his speciality, or his MO, but it was a simple matter. Escort the turian Councillor to a Senatorial Ceremony as undercover security.

Not that this event really required him to infiltrate anything, he could hide in plain sight. There to act if needed, while watching from afar. Less bodyguard, more watcher. He could be Spectre Avitus Rix, here to congratulate the newly promoted, without being overbearing and watching the Councillor’s every move.

Being completely disassociated from the Councillor required a favor or two called in. The first of which had been easy enough to secure. His mentor, Saren Arterius, was also planning to be in attendance with his newest protégé, Nihlus Kryik. The second was from a tailor, a suit appropriate for the day as his usual casuals wouldn’t do. The suit he wore was fitted to his frame, more so than he would normally wear, the lines accentuated his slim waist while understating the bulk of his shoulders to make him look more like the average soldier. The muted grey colour contrasted with his pale plates, while the emerald lining played well with his amber eyes.

With a half smile he thought back to those gruelling days under Saren, formal events more difficult for the new Spectre than survival training on jungle planets. His _Cartan_ was still only passable and his table manners left something to be desired. Avitus vividly remembered the first formal event that the biotic turian had brought him to, it had been just as stuffy and ceremonious as this one. It would be nostalgic to see Kryik suffering the same boredom as he had.

When the speeches ended the bulk of the room began to move from their seats, circling around to the buffet style banquet tables and to chat amongst others present. With one eye of the Councillor’s mouvements he set off to find Saren and Nihlus, seated nearer the front of the room due to the Arterius name they were easily spotted. The two contrasted each other well, the Spectre’s already distinctly pale plates were made lighter by his dark suit, while his apprentice’s unique carmine plating was accentuated by near white formalwear.

He mingled and intermixed with the pair for a handful of minutes, scoping out the crowd as he did so. The was a single turian that his eyes caught on that day, and it wasn’t because he thought the shorter turian male was a threat to the Councillor… no… it was because he was absolutely stunning.

Oak coloured plates and forest green markings spoke of his heritage, likely either Astrega, here on Palaven, or maybe Edessan if he was from the colonies. The pale Spectre vividly remembered Saren hammering cultural lessons into him, and now he understood the importance.

His suit was tailored to him beautifully, speaking of wealth that his markings did not. Although considering he was on the arm of a Senator’s daughter, he assumed the male had risen high in the ranks despite the story his markings told of his upbringing.

Avitus excused himself from his mentor and fellow protege after that, settling in for the evening to watch his mark and possibly casually glance at the mystery turian as well.

\- - -

Much later that evening Avitus was leaning back against the bar, a strong grain alcohol in his glass, horosk, as he surveyed the room. Before the event he’d taken an alcohol suppressant, so while he wasn’t feeling the effects of the drink in the slightest, he was enjoying the taste.

As he finished the last sip, he placed the glass down on the counter with a quiet clink. Guests were beginning to leave as the night came to a close. Dancing was mostly finished for the evening, waiters were slowly beginning to collect the tableware.

His job was nearly done.

The Councillor had called for his chauffeur, and as soon as he was safely inside another mission could be considered complete. The tall turian sighed. He was tired, even though it’d just been a ceremony and reception. Keeping up this forced formality for hours was grueling. He missed speaking normally, slouching.

Not to mention that half his reasoning for taking this particular assignment was that he had doubted there would be much of a physical requirement. A close scrape with a couple of pirates had been enough to send him to hospital for a few days between his last mission and this one. He was sure his leg appreciated the extra recovery time. It felt good, if nothing else. He felt confident into going back to-

“Long day?”

Avitus glanced to the side, recognizing the forest green markings from earlier. The mystery turian. “Hm…?”

The other male hummed warmly, slipping onto the stool beside the taller turian, facing opposite towards the bar, and flagging the bartender. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Ha… right. Been long enough,” he drawled slowly, his usual accent slipping through the polite mask he’d worn all night. They relaxed in amicable silence a moment, the female behind the bar took her sweet time getting to them.

“What can I get you, sir?”

“Two more, of whatever he’s having.”

“Two Parthian Brandies, coming up.”

The quiet returned, and he started gathering the energy to break it. Apparently the oak plated turian was ordering him a drink. That deserved a little conversation, where he came from. Didn’t hurt that the smaller male was… well, that Senator’s daughter had good taste.

“I’m Rix by the way.”

“Barro,” the other male answered with a toothy grin.

The waitress brought back two glasses with her and poured their drinks. Barro thanked her as she left, and turned to lean back against the bar, seated still but body angled towards him while he looked out at the room.

“Thanks for this. Haven’t been able to drink all day.”

“Making up for it?”

“Got it in one, Barro.”

The smaller male took a sip of the brandy, clicking his tongue at the aftertaste. Avitus couldn’t completely disagree. Whatever year this one, it was a shit year. He took a sizable sip of his own, figuring that everyone had their bad years.

“This is awful.”

Avitus started chuckling into his drink, lowering the tumbler back to the bar top before he spilled any. He’d had much worse than this and enjoyed it, but it was fair that a core-worlder would have expected better.

“Bad year, I think. Normally Parthia makes a damn good brandy… pardon my language.” He raised the glass again, ignoring the grimace.

Talons fluttered dismissively at his faux pas, subvocals humming agreement instead as Barro flagged the waitress again.

“I’ve got a special request, miss.”

“Happy to oblige if I can, sir. What are you after?”

“I think I see the ingredients for a couple of Taetrus Skycarbombs back there…”

The Spectre coughed, a drop or two of shitty brandy going down the wrong pipe. He cleared his throat and turned, only to be faced with an impish grin.

“Really? A Taetrus _Skycarbomb_? At a senatorial election reception?”

“Well the materials were right there…”

Avitus laughed, unable to help himself. He couldn’t help but get a kick out of the other male’s audacity. Barro subvocals broke into quiet laughter as well, a charming trill that only fueled his good humor.

After a quick minute the bartender came by again, passing two foamy brown glasses to the shorter male, who thanked her cheerfully before turning back to him and holding one out.

“You’ll like this better I bet.” He took the new glass, gloved talons brushing against the other male’s gently enough that it could have been an accident.

Amber eyes widened slightly as he glanced up at the subtle come on, mostly because it was so damn unexpected.

“I might just. So, where’s your date?” he asked as politely as possible.

“Neyreta?” Barro smiled around the edge of his glass. “Too high tiered for me really, she’s a co-worker. We came together as friends to avoid unwanted company... I could ask the same of you?”

Avitus had been about to take a sip of his own drink and he stopped just short of the glass, snorting. “Arterius?”

At the near-innocent questioning look Rix started laughing again, setting down his drink once more. Apparently he hadn’t been the only one taking glances at the other through the evening. Without realizing it, he was dropping the formal tone completely and lapsing into his usual easy-does-it colony-accented tone. “Naw. Definitely not. He’s just hoss for me.”

“A hoss?”

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat, swapping back to formal and taking up his drink as a shield for the mild embarrassment of slipping. “My mentor is… also out of my league, I’d say. And entirely unavailable if he weren’t.”

“Oh. So... you’re going to be a Spectre then?”

“Am one already.” He took a sip of the drink, humming appreciation at its warming effect. “What about you?”

Barro considered a moment. “Suppose you have the ability to look it up regardless. I’m Hierarchy still, Blackwatch colonization specialist.”

He leaned a forearm back on the bar, browridge raising. A colonization specialist… who was in Blackwatch? _Riiiiight._

“I would be interested to hear how that’s been working out for you sometime.” He added a little extra emphasis on the ‘sometime’, guessing it was likely not a story for this particular time and place.

The younger turian grinned but said nothing.

Avitus looked across the room in the lull, sighting the Councillor easily and noticing that he was unfortunately headed for the door. “I uh… should go. It was nice chatting with you Mr Barro.”

“You as well, but it’s just Macen.”

“Macen,” he agreed, the name rolling easily off his tongue. Too easily.

The Spectre walked away, glancing back just once to see green eyes that were positively predatory in watching him go. He swallowed and spun forward. If he ever saw the male again? Avitus knew he would be in trouble.


End file.
